Shrapnel
by Earendil Eldar
Summary: (Post-Series 2) Jack is the glue that's held the team together through it all, and holding everyone else together is what's allowed him to bury his own hurt. But when things get better, Jack has no distraction and finally has to deal with grieving.


"We go on," Jack had said. And he'd meant it. It wasn't the first time and, he knew, it wouldn't be the last. It was hell. Utter and absolute. A territory Jack Harkness was intimately familiar with. But just then, he'd had a job to do.

When they finally got home, Ianto had gone directly to bed. He hadn't even put his clothes in the hamper, just dropped everything at the bedside. Jack was in bed beside him a few minutes later, having busied himself with putting Ianto's clothes away, then his own. When he laid down beside Ianto and wrapped an arm around him, Jack knew he was crying silently. Jack didn't feel there was anything he could say, so he just held Ianto close. It would take time, but they'd get through it. Together.

And they did. With Jack's resolve and persevering leadership, Torchwood 3 carried on keeping Weevils in-check (the notion of 'under wraps' was pretty much done for) and keeping tabs on whatever the Rift sent their way. Things were slowly becoming bearable again, returning to some semblance of normality.

And that meant Jack had no defense of 'purpose' to shield himself within.

It happened so suddenly one morning. He and Ianto were going about the morning as they usually did. Breakfast, washing up, dressing. An entirely ordinary start to the day. Until Ianto asked Jack to hand him one of his ties.

Jack didn't catch half of Ianto's request and asked him which tie he wanted.

Ianto, combing his hair at the mirror, simply said, "Grey." The next thing Ianto knew, Jack was grasping the closet door post and looking like he was having a heart attack. The thought shot Ianto through with panic for a moment – after everything that had happened, something wrong with Jack was not on the list of things Ianto Jones could deal with just then.

"Jack?" he asked worriedly, taking a tentative step toward his lover.

Jack shook his head as if to dismiss Ianto's concern, but it only shook loose the tears and grief that had been bubbling under the surface, ignored and set aside as Jack deliberately distracted himself with helping everyone but himself get through things.

Jack sank to his knees and leaned against the wall, sobbing at… he wasn't even sure what. Everything. It was just everything. Gray, certainly. Owen and Toshiko. The fault in his psyche caused by 2000 years buried in the earth, even if his conscious was mercifully spared by the constant cycle of death by asphyxiation.

"Oh, Jack," Ianto whispered, kneeling beside him and pulling Jack into his arms.

"Why couldn't I protect them?" Jack wept, clutching Ianto desperately. "I was supposed to protect them! I was _supposed_ _to_ protect my brother, I was _supposed_ _to_ protect my best friend, I was _supposed_ _to_ protect my men in Lahore, I was _supposed to_ protect my teammates, I was _supposed to_ protect that star-whale, I was _supposed to_ protect Tosh and Owen, I was _supposed to_ protect Cardiff… Wales… Earth… _you_…. And I've failed every time. Every. Single. Time. What am I doing here?!"

Ianto just held Jack tightly and stroked his back. "And how perfect are you _supposed to_ be, Jack? I know that when things go wrong, it looks like they've always gone wrong and always will. Believe me I know that. Because until _you_ showed me otherwise, that feeling was all I knew. And I don't want to hear you talking like you're going to leave again, because that's the only way you could ever fail me – by walking away from me now."

"You'd be better off if I went," Jack muttered. "I _know_ that. But I won't. Because I need you far too much. I'm not a good enough man to do what would really be right by you."

Ianto stifled the sharp rebuke he was about issue in favour of just holding Jack as close as he could. He'd never seen Jack break down like this, and though he'd been sure that Jack's grief would come out eventually, he hadn't really been prepared for it.

"I _wouldn't_ be better off without you," Ianto whispered firmly. "And it's ok if you need me. Come back to bed?"

Jack didn't respond for a while. Then he shook his head slightly and said, "We have to go to work."

"Who's going to tell you off for not turning up?" Ianto smirked, then turned serious. "Maybe you should have some bereavement leave, Jack. Take some time off and start to heal."

Jack shook his head again. "Can't do that."

"Yes, you can, Jack."

"It's only us now, I can't leave you and Gwen to -"

"If Gwen or I needed time off, if one of us got sick or hurt, you'd give it?"

"Of course!"

"Then you're taking it for yourself now. No different."

"But I can't, I'm supposed -"

"You've just lost an immediate family member. That goes for bereavement leave. That's all there is to it."

"That person in cold storage was _not_ my brother."

"The person who was killed over a year ago was _not_ my Lisa, either. But you gave me time to mourn the Lisa I did lose, however long before there was a physical death. You need this, Jack. Please listen to me. And please don't make me invoke second-in-command, because if you don't give yourself the time to look after yourself, I will."

Again Jack was quiet for a long while. "Ianto?" Jack said, his voice smaller than Ianto could imagine. "Please don't leave me."

"Not going to," Ianto promised, helping Jack get up and back over to the bed.


End file.
